


Our Girls

by iloveyou_iknow (llostt_in_ttranslationn)



Series: i’d die trying to let you live [5]
Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, and a side of pizzie “friendship”, more henelope brotp adventures, this time with actual hizzie content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:04:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llostt_in_ttranslationn/pseuds/iloveyou_iknow
Summary: Lizzie is going to have to come up with a damn good reason to explain away these new luxury sheets on her bed that doesn’t involve telling her sister that Penelope Park bled all over her other set.





	Our Girls

**Author's Note:**

> Back again. Still no direct Posie. Oops. It’ll happen soon. Instead you get established Hizzie and some side Pizzie. More to come soon.

“Hope?”

 

This is the only acceptable time for someone to say her name like that.

 

Because after nearly three months of no contact, Hope was woken up by a note from Penelope at two in the morning.

 

_In a bit of a bind. Not the fun kind. Could use a hand._

 

There was no signature but there was a set of coordinates at the bottom of the page. Hope didn’t need a name to know who magically delivered the note to her.

 

“Not the fun kind of bind, huh?” Hope snickers as she begins to untie her friend. “Does Josie know you’re into that shit?”

 

Penelope doesn’t give her more than a smirk and a wink in response, her blackened eye and bloody lip taking away from the usual charmingly sleazy vibe of the action.

 

She looks utterly fucked up. Tied up in a dark warehouse somewhere in New Orleans, Hope has never seen Penelope look less composed. “What the fuck happened?”

 

“Angry witch,” Penelope shrugs as best she can, cringing at the movement. “The usual.”

 

“Where are you hurt?” Hope asks. She is hesitant to remove Penelope from the mental chair she was tied to, but who knows when the “angry witch” will return to finish what she started?

 

“I might have been stabbed.”

 

“ _Might_?“ Hope screeches.

 

“Okay,” Penelope concedes. “I was stabbed. Three times, I think?”

 

If the girl wasn’t apparently half-dead _again_ , Hope would have smacked her.

 

“Okay,” Hope mumbles to herself, trying to remain calm. “Okay, we have to get out of here before I can do anything for you.”

 

“I’ll try not to die in the meantime,” Penelope affirms.

 

“What’s that spell you like to use? To disappear in a puff of smoke?”

 

Penelope smirks, reciting the spell. She’s too drained and weak for it to do anything, but Hope pulls Penelope into her arms and then repeats it and suddenly they’re in the middle of the woods and not in a creepy warehouse.

 

“Where the fuck are we?” Hope swivels her head around, searching for any immediate threats.

 

“Should’ve warned you,” Penelope chokes out a laugh. “Transports you to your default location, basically. Gotta think real hard to go to a specific place.”

 

Hope has no idea what the fuck Penelope means, but the girl is incredibly pale, so Hope closes her eyes and mutters the spell again, focusing all her energy on getting them to her room at Salvatore.

 

Unfortunately, she’s very unfamiliar with this spell, so instead of her bedroom, the duo ends up in a different bedroom that Hope spends a lot of time in.

 

Lizzie shrieks at the sudden appearance, and it takes Hope’s quick reflexes to deflect the wave of magic her girlfriend blindly shoots out.

 

Lizzie’s heart is pounding in Hope’s ears, and Hope offers a small, apologetic smile to try and calm her down.

 

“Sorry, babe.”

 

“Do not ‘babe‘ me right now, Hope Andrea Mikaelson! What the fuck are you doing?”

 

“Saving this dumbass’s life,” Hope shifts Penelope in her arms. “Meant to go to my room. Miscalculated I guess,” she shrugs.

 

Lizzie lets out an exasperated groan. “Let’s get her to the bed,” she moves to help Hope lift Penelope and carry her over to her bed.

 

Hope raises an eyebrow, quirking her head at Lizzie’s choice of bringing Penelope over to her own bed instead of Josie’s.

 

“I can explain away changing my sheets, but no way can I come up with a valid excuse as to why I had to change hers,” Lizzie answers the silent question. “Blood is not an easy stain to get out, so this bitch owes me a new set of sheets.”

 

Hope hums in amused agreement, moving to tear the rest of Penelope’s tattered black tee shirt off. She can tell now that it’s blood-soaked, something that wasn’t visible in the warehouse or woods.

 

Lizzie scoffs at the fact that even half-dead from something probably stupid, Penelope is still wearing a cute lacy bra. “Why do you keep helping her when she’s clearly trying to get herself killed?”

 

Hope hesitates. Penelope is passed out at this point, and she has to decide on her own whether or now to tell Lizzie the truth. She hates the idea of lying to her girlfriend.

 

So she doesn’t.

 

“She’s trying to find a cure for the Merge,” Hope whispers.

 

Lizzie frowns. “Seriously?”

 

Hope nods, prodding at a deep laceration on Penelope’s stomach. One of the afformentioned stab wounds. “It’s why she left.”

 

“Sometimes you make it so damn hard to hate you, y’know that, Satan?” Lizzie snarks softly to the unconscious girl, her tone lacking its usual bite.

 

Hope smiles for a moment. “She’s not so bad, Liz.”

 

Lizzie rolls her eyes. “Well, Josie would not be happy to come in here and find her ex dead, so let’s maybe try to do something about all this, yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Hope agrees.

 

“Magic?” Lizzie suggests.

 

“No!” Hope is quick to protest. “She’s pissed off a lot of supernaturals. We can’t use magic to save her.”

 

“Well, I’m not a doctor, and neither are you,” Lizzie points out.

 

“Can you go to my room and get my first aide kit from the bottom drawer of my bureau?” Hope asks.

 

Lizzie nods. “I’ll get some wet cloths, too. She’s a mess.”

 

Hope hums in agreement, rolling Penelope on to her side to see the other two fresh wounds. She doesn’t even want to think about all of the scars that litter her friend’s body, including the major one from several months ago that first sparked their friendship.

 

The good news is that only the stab to her stomach is deep. The two on her back are shallow and definitely didn’t hit anything more than just muscle.

 

“If you bleed to death in Lizzie’s bed I will never live it down, Park,” Hope mumbles. “Don’t die on me yet, got it?”

 

Lizzie returns shortly. “This is crazy,” she says, even as she’s wiping dried blood off of Penelope’s stomach with slightly shaky hands.

 

“Welcome to being friends with Penelope Park,” Hope snickers.

 

“I am not friends with her!” Lizzie protests.

 

Hope shrugs. “She’s trying to save your life, babe.”

 

“Well maybe if she lives to complete her task I’ll consider cutting her a break. Until then, I still hate her.”

 

Hope just rolls her eyes, pouring disinfectant on Penelope’s stomach, cringing at the slight fizzle that occurs when it meets the stab wound. She wipes it with some gauze and then begins to stitch up the wound, praying that there’s no lasting internal damage.

 

Lizzie and Hope work in silence as they patch up Penelope, but it’s only tense due to the worry plaguing both of them. They make a rather good team.

 

“Wait, where is Josie right now?” Hope asks, a sudden pulse of anxiety ricocheting throughout her body. She knows Penelope would not want the girl stumbling upon this scene.

 

“Out with  _Jed_ ,” Lizzie rolls her eyes. “What is it about these dumb Park kids that she can’t resist?”

 

“You brilliant bastard,” Hope whispers at Penelope. “You totally got your cousin to distract Josie today, huh? You’re one fucked up lovesick bitch with a hell of a foresight even when you’re dying.”

 

“Well it sure does seem to happen a lot,” Lizzie points out.

 

Hope chuckles, finishing the application of Penelope’s last bandage. “For you,” Hope reminds her.

 

“For Josie,” Lizzie corrects. “Everything she’s ever done really has been for Josie.”

 

“Don’t you forget it,” a weak voice rasps.

 

“One of these days you’re actually gonna die, P,” Hope says softly.

 

“After I find it.”

 

“What does my sister even see in you?” Lizzie grumbles.

 

“Obviously it’s my amazing self preservation skills,” Penelope coughs out a chuckle.

 

Lizzie rolls her eyes.

 

Penelope wheezes in a breath, shakily reaching out and latching onto Lizzie’s wrist with a surprisingly strong grip. “You can’t tell her I was here,” her eyes are serious, and Lizzie is mildly impressed that someone with three stab wounds can look so intensely focused.

 

“You’ve got nothing to worry about there, Satan,” Lizzie scoffs.

 

Penelope releases her grasp, letting out a sigh as she slips back into unconsciousness.

 

“I’m gonna go see if I can sneak some of the good pain meds from the infirmary,” Hope decides. “Stay with her?”

 

Lizzie pouts. “She’s asleep, why do I need to?”

 

“In case she wakes up and starts choking on her own blood,” Hope tells her. “Please, Liz.”

 

“Okay,” Lizzie frowns.

 

Hope smiles and places a soft kiss to Lizzie’s lips. “Thanks, baby.”

 

Lizzie can’t help but grin at the term of endearment. Hope knows it’s her weakness. “I hate you.”

 

Hope smirks. “Do you really, though?” She raises an eyebrow.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Guess I’ll keep my lips to myself next time, then,” Hope teases.

 

“Let’s not be hasty,” Lizzie says quickly.

 

“Okay, okay,” Hope agrees with a laugh. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

Lizzie watches as Hope walks out of the room, and she stares at the door for a few moments after it closes before bringing her gaze to the unconscious girl on her bed.

 

“You know, for Hope and Josie’s sake, I hope you find the cure without dying,” Lizzie says quietly. “They’re quite fond of you, for some odd reason.”

 

She pauses, though she’s not expecting a response.

 

“Between you and me, though,” Lizzie shakes her head gently at the fact that she’s spilling her guts to the girl she’s supposed to hate, asleep or not. “Josie’s the stronger twin. So you’d really have nothing to worry about if you can’t fix this. She’d be the one who lives.”

 

Lizzie has never admitted this aloud before, but she figures that if she’s going to say it o anyone, it should be Penelope Park.

 

“But if it does come to that, you’ve gotta stay by her side. She won’t be okay for a while, I’m sure. But you can help her live without me. And if you’re so inclined, Hope is going to need someone, too. If I manage to keep her around that long, that is. God knows I’m prone to fucking shit up in my life, especially the good stuff,” Lizzie chuckles humourlessly. “Keep yourself alive so you can keep my girls happy when I can’t,” she says a little more sternly.

 

Lizzie is fairly certain that Penelope did not hear a word of her admittance. Until of course, two days later, after Penelope has vanished off to god knows where, when she finds a brand new thousand thread count set of sheets on her bed, accompanied by a crisply folded note on her pillow.

 

_Neither of them are going to have to live without you. Don’t be so dramatic. But they’re my girls too, you know. We can fight about it when I get back. —Satan_

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought here or on twitter or tumblr.


End file.
